Why
by KP02
Summary: Why as in why did I write this. Much angst within, involving George after the series ends. Read at your own risk.
1. Chapter 1

Wrote this on tumblr originally, then a friend reminded me I should publish it here. Might have something else that I'll post as a second chapter, who knows?

Disclaimer: I would be a lot richer if I owned Harry Potter, but would still write fanfiction let's face it.

* * *

The funeral was simple. There were so many others that were happening, so many had died that it seemed as though there couldn't be enough survivors to attend them all. But this one was attended by more than most, the crowd liberally sprinkled with ginger. In the front of the crowd was a crying Molly Weasley, her husband standing next to her, not much better. In fact, the only dry eye was one George Weasley.

He was smiling. It was strained, it was fake, and anyone who looked in his eyes could see it. But he was still smiling, eyes fixed on the wooden box that held his best friend, his confidant, his brother, his image. The one that shared everything with him.

He turned to his mother as the box lowered into the hole where a part of him would be buried, smile still fixed to his face. "Well, mum," his voice broke the hushed silence that had previously only been peppered by the sobs of the woman next to him. "You'll be able to tell us apart now."

The words seemed to break something inside him, and the tears started streaming down his face as he squeezed his eyes shut, smile breaking as a broken look twisted his face instead. Loud sobs broke the silence, punctuated by the thump, thump, thump of dirt hitting the top of the coffin.

The redheaded twin-except he was no longer a twin, he was just him now, and that was something he would never get used to-fell to his knees, burying his face in his hands as the pain hit him all over again. Part of himself was being torn from his chest, and he couldn't hide how he felt. There was no point.


	2. Chapter 2

Originally these two parts were separate, but then I had them both together when I uploaded it and was too lazy to change it. Anyways. Updating to make my friend cry.  
You're welcome, Kurt. :)

* * *

The world was different without him. More and more, George found himself turning to share a joke with someone who wasn't there, laughing at words that had never been spoken because he knew what his twin would say in that moment. Except Fred wasn't there. He was laughing at nothing, at the voice in his head that used to be outside of it.

They were starting to think he was crazy, he knew it. He could hear them talking about him in hushed voices, talking about therapy and getting him help. Different spells that were supposed to help. Except he'd always been crazy, he just used to have someone else with him, making it look a little better. A little less insane. And without the one person that could make him seem sane, he was falling apart. He was giving into the insanity because it felt like that was all he had left. Without it, without that little voice telling him what he should be doing, giving him advice, he had nothing at all.

He had no interest in jokes, they reminded him too much of Fred. He had no interest in anything. A part of himself was dead, and he would never get it back. He would never see his brother again. He would never tell him another joke.

And the saddest part of all? Without the other, no one saw him. He was nothing without his double. His brother was the one who made him who he was, and without that, he was fading away.

* * *

The new teacher was a Weasley. None of the students had thought a Weasely would ever be a teacher, and none of them except a few had met this one. Professor George Weasely, Care of Magical Creatures. Hagrid had retired several years ago, and supposedly this man was the temporary teacher. He had bright red hair, of course he was a Weasely. Bright red hair, freckles, and a smile that was both pained and happy at the same time. He was a war hero, they would whisper. He had been in the battle of Hogwarts, had been one of the ones to help Harry Potter! The whispers traveled quickly, but George never seemed to hear them.

It was his second week in when the students noticed the ghost that always seemed to hang around him. It was one they'd all seen before, a younger male with an easy smile and ready jokes. He had one ear missing, which was actually more normal than a lot of the ghosts. Only a few knew who he was, and those few knew George too. They would give the pair sad smiles when they saw the ghost there, trying to get George's attention.

Fred never could seem to gain his brother's attention. No matter what he did, George couldn't see him. Even when the students pointed him out, he would just give them a blank look. He never seemed to realize when the ghost pulled pranks on him, never seemed to even look up when it disrupted class.

However, the Gryffindors could tell stories. Stories of the young professor sitting in their common room, talking to a ghost he didn't know was there. Telling him stories that the ghost already knew, asking advice when grading papers.

The new professor was crazy, that much was obvious. But who wasn't in Hogwarts?


End file.
